The Shepherds: Cinderella
by xxLittle Black Dressxx
Summary: He claims he never dances in public. And that's okay; because it's the private dances that mean the most. One-shot set in 'The Shepherds' series.


A/N: This one-shot is loosely based off Steve Curtis Chapman's song, "Cinderella." It's a very sweet song (think father/daughter wedding dance song), and I really wanted to write a story based on it—though the story eventually departs from the song in a pretty big way. Since it's a tender song, I thought The Shepherds universe would be perfect because the characters and their relationships are already established. Plus, this is the 40th story I've posted on this site, and I wanted it to be a Shepherds story. If you haven't read my other Shepherds stories, you should still be able to follow this one-shot pretty easily (there are some references to the earlier stories, but nothing should be too confusing). Anyway, I hope you like this story, and as always, thanks so much for reading!

* * *

**The Shepherds: Cinderella**

_So, I will dance with Cinderella  
__While she is here in my arms.  
_'_Cause I know something the prince never knew._

—"_Cinderella," _Steve Curtis Chapman

* * *

"_There's a ball at the castle, and I've been invited,  
__And I need to practice my dancing."_

There are times where Derek Shepherd swears his wife can't be human. There was that time, back in med. school, when she got the same score that he got on a neuro exam, despite the fact that she had no intention of ever going into the field. Then there are times when he watches her operate on impossibly tiny preemies, who wouldn't have a chance if anyone but her were their doctor. And then there's tonight.

He has a very high-profile surgery tomorrow morning, and he's been reading and prepping for it more than he has for any case he can remember. He and Addison do their best not to bring their work home with them. They do everything they can to create a divide between work time and family time. But sometimes bringing work home is inevitable. And tonight is one of those nights.

He's pretty much went from his office at work to his office at home; and Addison, knowing that tomorrow's a big day for him, readily offered to take care of the kids tonight. They have three kids under the age of five (two of whom are one-year-old twins), and somehow, Addison managed to feed them, bathe them, and put the twins to bed with almost no crying, screaming, or shrieking…all after working a full day at the hospital, herself. He doesn't know how she does it.

He can hear the sound of faint music playing in the background—Addison's go-to method for keeping the twins calm and tantrum-free. Carter and Colette love music; a trait that Derek insists they've inherited from him, because he and Addison both know that her musical skills peaked in high school, and have gone steadily downhill ever since.

He looks up from his reading, towards his office door, which is slightly ajar, and sees his almost five-year-old daughter, Willa, dancing and swaying by herself in the hallway outside his office. She's dressed in her little, pale blue Cinderella dress-up gown and sparkly dress-up heels. Even at five years old, Derek can tell she's going to be just like her mother in that respect—a natural in high heels.

He smiles as he continues to watch his daughter who, based on looks alone, is a pretty perfect combination of him and Addison; but everyone knows that Willa's personality is pure Addison.

"Daddy," Willa says, pushing his office door open slightly, and walking inside.

"Yeah?"

"There's a ball at the castle, and all of the princes and princesses want me to go."

"Really?" Derek asks with a smile, unabashedly charmed by his daughter's vivid imagination.

"Really," Willa confirms. "But, um…" she trails off, almost in embarrassment. "I need to practice my dancing."

"Oh?"

Willa nods, and extends her little, gloved hand. "Daddy, will you help me practice?"

Derek can't help the smile that's spreading across his face. Sure, he still has a lot of reading and research to do before the night's over; but that can wait.

"Of course I'll practice with you," he says softly, pushing his papers and textbooks aside and standing up from his chair. He accepts Willa's extended hand, and picks her up. Dancing is easier that way…for both of them.

"You're a really good dancer, Daddy," Willa compliments.

Derek laughs. As someone who goes out of his way not to dance in public, he's not used to getting compliments on his dancing skills. "I think you're a good dancer too."

"Thank you."

"What's going on in here?" Addison asks in surprise, a slight smile playing on her face as she watches Derek and Willa. She has just finished putting the twins down for bed; she hadn't expected to come back downstairs to find Willa dancing with Derek in his office. "Willa," she continues, as she watches her husband and daughter continue to dance. "Remember what we talked about? Daddy has a lot of work to-"

"It's okay, Addie," Derek interrupts. "I'm almost done anyway."

Addison raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Really?"

"No," Derek concedes. "But some things are more important."

Addison smiles softly. She knows that their marriage is a far cry from the mess that it once was back in New York and during their early days in Seattle, but it's nice to be reminded every now and again.

"Willa was invited to a ball at the castle," Derek continues with a grin, cutting into Addison's thoughts. "And she wanted to practice her dancing."

"So, I asked Daddy for help," Willa chimes in innocently

Addison nods in approval as she listens to her daughter corroborate Derek's story. "How's Daddy doing?" she asks her daughter.

"Good," Willa approves. "He's a very good dancer."

Derek meets his wife's eyes and gives her a teasing smirk. "I've got dance moves the prince has never seen before," he boasts, making them both laugh.

He's happy. Undeniably happy. And it's so simple. Just dancing with his daughter as his wife looks on. But maybe it's not so simple. Maybe the simplicity is deceptive. Because it's the right wife. And it's _their _daughter. And he loves them both (and the twins) more than he ever knew was possible.

And as his almost-five-year-old wraps her little arms around his neck, and presses a sweet kiss to his cheek, he swears that if it were possible for a heart to melt, his would be a big, melty puddle. He wants to freeze this moment. Because he knows Willa won't be little forever (she's already growing up too fast). And he wants to hold onto the days of castles and fairytales; where princes are make-believe, and royal balls are real. And he can solve her biggest, most worrisome problems simply by taking her in his arms and dancing with her.

_She says, "Dad, the prom is just one week away,  
__And I need to practice my dancin.'"_

"How'd it go?" Derek asks, as Addison joins him and their eleven-year-old son in the living room.

"It went well," Addison nods. "She looks beautiful in her dress. Really grownup."

"Where is she now?"

"She wants to show you the dress, now that it's altered," Addison explains. "Colette's helping her change into it."

"Addison, I don't know," Derek sighs, as his wife leans against him on the mocha-colored, leather couch. "Prom's a big deal. And she's only fourteen."

"She'll be fifteen next month," Carter pipes up.

Derek shakes his head disapprovingly. "You're not helping, buddy."

In all honesty, he doesn't love the idea of his fourteen-year-old going to prom. But Willa's boyfriend, Kipton, is a junior, so Derek doesn't have much say in the matter.

He's known Kipton since Kipton was nine-years-old (Willa was seven); and, truth be told, Derek likes Kipton a lot. But as a self-proclaimed overprotective father, he can't help feeling some anxiety over the whole situation.

Of course, he and Addison also have their own personal reasons for hating prom…reasons which, admittedly, are mostly his fault. For him and Addison, the prom is nothing but bad memories—panties, adulterous sex, and a tawdry disrespect for their marriage. Sure, they've moved past all that; but some memories don't need to be revisited. And with all the prom talk that's been happening in their house lately, it's a line they're toeing.

To their credit, they've managed to put their personal feelings about prom aside, and have put on a good face for Willa. It's only fair. They may hate prom; but that's their burden to bear, not their daughter's.

That doesn't mean they're not ready for prom to be over. There's no denying that, lately, things between him and Addison have been a little left of center. And there's no doubt in his mind that prom is the culprit. He's been more careful than usual around her. She's been more reserved than usual around him. They know they're okay, but the tension is there—undeniable—nonetheless.

"So…?" Willa trails off, as she enters the living room, dressed in a silver ball gown. The bodice is intricately beaded, and the bottom of the dress is tulle (not that these words mean anything to Derek. They mean a lot to Addison and Willa, though). "What do you think, Dad?"

"You look like a princess," Colette compliments admiringly, as she joins the rest of the family in the living room.

"Yeah, you look really pretty," Carter agrees from his place on the couch.

"Thank you," Willa smiles, looking from her sister to her brother, before turning her attention to her father. "Dad…?"

Derek swallows the lump in his throat, his voice suddenly choked and hoarse. "Colette's right," he smiles. "You look like Cinderella."

He looks over at his wife, and as they meet each other's gaze, they share a look of understanding. They'll never like prom. But they're also big enough to realize that this moment isn't about him or her or them. It's about their daughter.

"Um, Dad," Willa begins, cutting into Derek's thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"The heels I'm wearing with this dress…they're pretty high." She lifts the bottom of her gown slightly, giving her father a glimpse of her sparkly, silver high heels. "And I want to make sure I can dance in them. Will you practice with me?"

He feels his throat quiver at his daughter's request. There's nothing he'd rather do.

He stands up and takes Willa's extended hand—the hand, which he and Addison have been insisting for years now, is most definitely the hand of a future surgeon. He places his other hand lightly on her lower back, and they sway to the music that isn't playing, as Addison, Carter, and Colette look on.

He swears it was just the other day that they were dancing together in his office—her in her little Cinderella gown and gloves. But he's also aware of how much has changed since then—how much Willa and their family have been through. And he's proud of his daughter. She was forced to grow up fast when her second grade teacher sexually abused her; and he and Addison worried that she might never recover from what had happened to her. It had changed Willa, obviously. But, so far, it hadn't led to depression or anxiety, and it hadn't delayed her development or her social skills or anything like that.

"You're a really good dancer, Dad," Willa compliments in a moment of déjà vu; and Derek can't help smiling at the familiarity of it all.

"Thanks," he chuckles. "Let's just say I've got some experience dancing with women in impossibly high heels."

"He means Mommy," Colette whispers loudly to Carter, confirming the obvious.

Derek looks over at the twins and smiles before looking back at Willa.

"So…?" Willa trails off. "What do you think?"

"I think I need to chaperone your prom," Derek says seriously.

"Dad, no," Willa protests. "That would be so embarrassing."

"Social suicide," Colette pipes up.

Derek shakes his head at Colette in mock disapproval. "You're not helping."

"I meant my dancing," Willa clarifies. "I think I'm ready for prom."

Derek swallows thickly as he lets his daughter's words sink in. She can dance in her heels; that's for sure. But that wasn't really a surprise to anybody. Her dress looks beautiful, and it fits perfectly. And she's got a date. By all intents and purposes, she's ready for prom. But he's not ready for her to be ready. And he can tell by the look on his wife's face, that Addison isn't ready either.

"I'll tell you what," he bargains, meeting his daughter's eyes. "Why don't you dance with me just a little longer? Just to be sure."

_Oh, I will dance with Cinderella.  
__I don't wanna miss even one song._

"Wow, Willa, you look really pretty," Colette compliments, as Addison zips Willa into her prom dress. "Like really, _really_ pretty."

"Thanks," Willa says, giving her sister an appreciative smile. She turns to her mother, and gestures towards her open jewelry box. "Which necklace?"

Addison lets her eyes sweep over her daughter's extensive jewelry collection. "None of them," she decides. "I've got a necklace that'll look perfect with your dress."

"Lucky," Colette mutters, as Addison leaves the room. "I want to wear Mommy's jewelry."

Addison returns moments later with a graduated diamond necklace in hand, and helps her daughter swap out her everyday necklace—the sapphire necklace that Addison had given Willa for her eighth birthday—for the more elaborate diamond necklace.

"What do you think?" Addison asks her daughter.

"I really like it," Willa smiles, gently bringing her fingers to her neck.

"Me too," Colette chimes in. "Can I wear it when I go to prom?"

"Of course you can," Addison nods; though she's grateful she still has several years before Colette and Carter go to prom. She's still having a hard enough time wrapping her head around the fact that Willa's going to prom.

But it's happening. Her daughter standing there in her silver prom dress, with her makeup professionally done, and her long, dark hair in soft curls is more than enough proof that it's happening.

"So…?" Willa trails off with a smile, as she meets her mother's eyes. "What do you think?"

Addison smiles at her daughter lovingly. "You're beautiful." _Always_—she adds silently.

It's the truth; Willa is undeniably beautiful. She always has been. Despite the fact that both Addison and Derek were late bloomers—and both had some incredibly awkward high school years—Willa somehow managed to escape all that. But even more than that, Willa's an incredible person. Her childhood certainly hadn't been easy, or kind; but Willa's a little fighter—a trait that Derek insists she gets from her mother.

"I'm excited about tonight," Willa confesses, cutting into Addison's thoughts. She turns to her mother. "Do you remember your prom?"

Addison swallows thickly at that. "Yes," she says cautiously, after a moment.

"And…?"

Addison shakes her head sadly. "I hope your prom is nothing like mine."

It's the truth. Addison's high school prom was miserable: _very traumatic memories of being a band geek with braces and a lisp, spending the whole evening with Skippy Gold, talking about Star Wars._ Addison is fairly confident that this won't be Willa's fate.

But that awful high school prom paled in comparison to her hospital prom with Derek. Prom with Derek made Skippy Gold seem like Prince Charming, and it made her high school prom seem like a completely bearable, even romantic evening.

"What happened?" Willa asks, once again ripping Addison from her thoughts. "Bad date?"

Addison shrugs. "I don't know. I, uh, I guess my date and I…weren't on the same page about some things," she explains diplomatically.

"What do mean?" Colette asks curiously.

Addison sighs. "I, uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is that not all proms are magical. It's great if they are. But sometimes they're not."

Willa nods meeting her mother's eyes, and the two share a look of understanding. Addison is certain that her daughter has no idea what happened at prom. But Addison is also certain that her daughter knows that _something_ happened; and whatever it was, hurt her mother a lot.

"So," Addison continues, channeling Bizzy, and forcing a smile, "why don't we head downstairs and take pictures with everyone?"

"Okay," Willa agrees.

Since it's Kipton's prom, the more formal prom pictures are going to be taken at his house; but Addison and Derek want to get a couple of pictures of just Willa and the family—plus the Sloans, the Karevs, and Hannah, (Izzie's daughter and Willa's former babysitter, who's become like a big sister to Willa)—beforehand.

"We should probably hurry," Colette says, hopping off Willa's bed. "Carter's probably making a fool out of himself downstairs."

"Why's that?" Addison asks.

Willa and Colette exchange a knowing look before turning their attention back to their mother. "He has a crush on Hannah," Colette explains. "But she's too old for him. She's twenty-six. Carter's only eleven."

"Plus, she babysat him when he was, like, three," Willa adds with a chuckle. "She's seen him run around in his racecar underpants. There's no coming back from that."

"Yeah, it's hopeless," Colette agrees.

Addison shakes her head in amusement. "Have you told Carter all this?"

"Of course," Willa nods. "We've got to look out for each other."

Addison smiles, simultaneously touched by the sweet relationship her children have with each other, and grateful that Carter has several male friends and cousins to help balance out his two very girly sisters.

"So, should we go downstairs?" Colette asks.

Willa looks at her mother and smiles. "Yeah, let's go."

xxxxx

"I hope she has fun," Addison says quietly, as she and Derek drive back from Kipton's house to their place. The twins are sleeping over Mark and Lexie's house, an impromptu arrangement that Addison set up last minute.

"I think she will," Derek offers with a small smile. "She looks beautiful. And as much as I hate the idea of her going to prom…and as much as I hate prom, in general…I think she's going to have a good time tonight."

Addison nods in agreement.

"So…" Derek trails off, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "Willa won't be back until late. The twins won't be back 'til tomorrow. Whatever will we do with ourselves?"

"Um, I actually have an idea," Addison says tentatively.

Derek frowns slightly, sensing that his plans for a sex-filled night with his wife are about to be dramatically altered. "What do you have in mind?"

Addison remains silent, purposely evading his question.

"Addie?"

"I, uh, I'll tell you when we get home. I'm still thinking everything through."

Ten minutes later, they're walking through the front door to their house, and Addison leads Derek up to their bedroom.

"Excellent," Derek grins, making himself comfortable on their king-sized bed, tossing a couple of throw pillows aside. Things with him and Addison have been a little uncomfortable lately (predictably so), and it would be nice to relieve some of the tension.

"Not so fast," Addison counters. She fumbles through her husband's closet until she finds her favorite tux of his. "Here," she says, handing it to him. "Go in one of the guest rooms, and put this on."

Derek looks at his wife quizzically. "Really, Addie? A tux? Where are we going?"

"Can you just do this for me, Derek?" she asks her husband vulnerably. "Please?"

"Yeah, okay," Derek nods, registering the pleading tone of his wife's voice. "I'll go change. I'll, uh…I guess I'll meet you downstairs when I'm done?"

"Okay," Addison agrees, as Derek makes his way towards the door, confused, but willing to participate in whatever it is his wife has planned.

An hour later (a record for her), Addison makes her way downstairs to meet her husband. Like him, she's also dressed formally—in a close-fitting, navy blue, lace gown. The clacking of her high heels catches her husband's attention, and he turns to look at her.

"Oh, wow," he breaths. All these years later, she still knows how to make him blush like a teenager.

"Wow yourself," Addison smiles, as she takes in her husband's appearance appreciatively.

"Thanks," he smiles. "But, you…seriously. Wow."

"Thank you."

"So…?" Derek trails off. "Which fancy restaurant do we have reservations at?"

Addison shakes her head. "No restaurant. I thought we could spend the night together here…just you and me."

"I, uh, no offense, Honey, but we're awfully dressed up for a night in."

Addison chuckles, but quickly grows serious. "I thought we could have our own prom here."

"Really? You want to do that? Are you sure?"

Addison nods. "This past month has been weird…and you and I both know why. And, well, I've been doing the math, and between all of our kids…conservatively, we still have another seven proms to get through. And I thought maybe we could try to change the way that we think about prom. You know, make a new memory."

"Make a new memory," Derek echoes thoughtfully. "I like that."

"It might not work," Addison admits in a whisper.

"But there's only one way to find out, he whispers back. He flicks on the sound system, and extends his hand to his wife. "Dance with me?"

Addison nods, and Derek pulls her into his arms, as they sway to the music together. This time it's different. This time he's committed. This time there's no one else. And, for just a moment, he allows himself to think back to the hospital prom—to the evening that should have been the nail in the coffin for him and Addison, but which by some miraculous twist of luck or fate wasn't. He remembers the words he said to Meredith. He remembers them verbatim: _Do you think I want to look at you? That I wouldn't rather be looking at my wife?_ This time it's different. This time Addison's all he sees. Granted, they're the only two people in the room; but even if they weren't, it wouldn't matter. She'd still be all he sees.

He holds her a little closer, vowing to make a new memory—just him and her. And as they continue to dance together, he can't help thinking about how very different his life would have turned out if the hospital prom had ended him and Addison forever, and not just temporarily. He, of course, can't know the specifics of what would have happened (and he's not interested either); but he knows his life wouldn't be good. He knows his life would not include Addison, Willa, Carter, and Colette; and that's not a life at all…at least not one that he's interested in living.

"You okay?" Addison asks, when she feels her husband's body tremble against hers.

"Yeah," Derek murmurs. "I just…I love you. And I'm glad we're finally doing this right."

Addison smiles and kisses her husband lovingly. "Me too."

Derek smiles contently as he continues to dance with his wife—as they make a new memory—just him and her. He knows they can never fully erase the hurt, pain, and betrayal that they'll forever associate with prom. But they can add some good prom memories to the bad ones.

He knows tonight will be a night of good memories. Dancing, drinking, and knowing them, they'll most likely cap off the evening with sex. But right now, the drinking and sex can wait. Because he's happy to just be dancing with Addison. And he doesn't want to miss a moment, or even one song.

And he's hopeful; because unlike Cinderella, who has to leave once the clock strikes midnight, he and Addison have made no such deal. They're in it for the long haul. Just the two of them, and their kids (who are growing up too fast). Every day until eternity.

_xxx_


End file.
